letters to _____ – iv

I am unallayed
in a hundred little ways
like pins they prick
chasing paths after pulses
in our white-capped bay
these peaks of sheets
and tides of turning limbs
need breathes silent
silver where the gleam of me
flickers at your throat
pressing petals
into fiercest buds of want
I would drift in kisses
and seething shine
orbital to your touch
here you are illimitable
here, my fire, you are mine

© Sarah Whiteley